


Beginnings

by written_in_blood



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Meetings, M/M, Origin Story, Sub Sebastian, Violence, goddammit jim, guns are not toys, non-sexual kneeling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-26 07:50:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13853289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/written_in_blood/pseuds/written_in_blood
Summary: After getting honorably discharged from Her Majesty's army, sniper Sebastian Moran had nowhere to go. Taking up odd jobs here and there, he couldn't help but cross paths with a wild-eyed psychopath by the name of Moriarty.This is their beginning.





	Beginnings

“I told you so, Felix!” Sebastian exclaimed over the sounds of ricocheting and echoing gunshots. He had known this boss was an idiot from the second that he and his old army buddy had met with the man firsthand for the job offer. Sebastian had pulled Felix aside after the pseudo-meeting and told it like he saw it: that Morrison was an idiot and they were going to die.

 

He heard Felix’s distinct laugh over the sound of gunshots. “Yes ya did, ya daft bastard!” His scottish brother-in-arms yelled back, sounding slightly pained. “On my left, Moran!” He commanded just as the bullets started to slow.

 

Sebastian shot up and bolted to the crate beside Felix’s, bouncing on his heels. The scene caught his mind and his thoughts stuttered. Felix was clutching desperately, one hand on his walter as he struggled to return fire, and the other was placed over a large wound on his side like a single man attempting to stop a flood with only a bucket. “Fey!” He managed, catching a running guard in the middle of the forehead with a lingering shot and dropping to his knees.

 

His best friend just managed a tired smile. “You were right, Mori. We are going to die here,” Felix laughed out as he took a second-lull to tie up his wound with his coat. It’ll do.

 

Sebastian only choked out a resigned laugh, jumping up from his cover to take down another two guards skillfully before diving back down. “Don’t you dare die on me, you arse. Roll call!”

 

He heard a panicked “Ellis” from the corner, a stuttered “Brightman” from a couple crates over, a pained “Zadek” from Felix, and Sebastian returned with “Moran.” Four men against what seemed to be an army: two kids and two ex-military assassins. Their leader was down, their boss laying dead on the cold concrete by the door, and the rest of the bodyguards were splattered out on the floor throughout the crates and isles.

 

So Sebastian would have to step up. “Okay, I need Brightman, you go collect Ellis and bolt as fast as you can towards the fourth exit on the northeast. Do NOT go any other door, they will catch you and put a bullet in you before you can make it to Theta extraction point,” Moran hissed, trying to be quiet but he could hear his voice carry. It didn’t matter anyway because Brightman snapped to attention at the order, grabbed his brother and ran like hellhounds bit at his heels.

 

The gunshots eventually slowly to a stop when they realized there was only two targets left. Sebastian watched with satisfaction as Andrew and Ellis Brightman-Brightman was too confusing a name with both the brothers so Andrew got first pick because of his age-escaped the onslaught through the instructed door.

 

Someone started clapping, slow and sarcastic and Sebastian bit his cheek. “Good show, boys.” It was a chilling european voice, something vaguely northern in his accent as he let the words drop from his lips in an almost gleeful voice. “Now why don’t you two come out now?”

 

Felix and Sebastian shared the same look.  _ Like hell. _

 

“How about ‘no’ and a jolly ‘go fuck yourself’,” Sebastian called back, quickly reloading at the lull in the firefight. “Because we ain’t dying in this hellhole, with all due respect,  _ sir _ !”

 

Instead of outrage like Sebastian expected from his usual snippy sarcasm, there was a manic laugh.

 

Then Felix inhaled sharply and brought his gun up in one shift movement above Sebastian’s head. “Don’t antagonize the man with a gun to your head, Seb,” he muttered just Sebastian felt a barrel settle into his dirtied blond hair. A bullet to the back of the head like an execution. Sounded about right for the no-good assassin’s end.

 

A shiver went down his spine as he realized he never heard his soon-to-murderer walk, never knowing his life was about to end until he felt the gun pressed into his head. “Oh, Fey, I may be just a lacky but even I’m not that stupid.”

 

Felix managed a shaky laugh and Sebastian imagined his shooter made a  _ put that thing away before you hurt yourself  _ motion because Felix slowly lowered his pistol to his side.

 

“Do I get the pleasure of knowing who has the best of me?” Sebastian questioned loosely, slowly removing his knife and placing it on the ground in of him with his trusty Walter. He was a lacky, true, but he was not an idiot. If he attacked the man behind him, there were another five guards-if he counted the bullets correctly-left to take him and Felix out. So surrender he had to.

 

“Oh, you know me, Sebby,” the man behind him drawled, sounding oddly manic and a tad bit hurt. Then it hit him.

 

Jeffery, Johnny, Jimmy, Jay, or something equally ridiculous with a J. The intern everyone had everyone ignored or even abused, simply because of his short stature and lanky form. Sebastian had knew the feeling, unable to protect himself and vulnerable, and kept his distance from the low level man of Morrison’s. He had only come face to face with the man once when an argument between Felix and Sebastian had carried into an empty room.

 

Sebastian had caught sight of the smaller man in the corner, talking seemingly to himself and both of them trailed off, hoping the other hadn’t heard what they said. The phrase ‘Morrison was a bafoonish imbecile that wouldn’t know strategy if it hit him on the head’ might have left Sebastian’s mouth and the last thing he needed was a low level telling on him to Morrison for brownie points. An apology from Sebastian and they never came face to face again.

 

“Was it… Johnny, Jacob-” he was cut off-thankfully if he would admit before more of a fool of himself-by a sharp laugh.

 

“Jimmy. Jim, actually, Tiger. Jim Moriarty.”

 

A stone settled heavily in his gut. Of fucking course.

 

Everyone had heard increasingly preposterous rumors about the man, Moriarty, the spider at the center of every web, including one particular exaggeration that he wasn’t even a man; but rather, a vampire or vengeful demon. Moriarty was a bedtime story, cautionary tale, for every lacky that wanted to keep their heads.  _ Careful there and be a good boy or Moriarty will get you. _

 

The thought caused a burst of laughter to escape his lips before he could stop it. Before the insane and possibly inhuman criminal mastermind with a gun to his head could take it wrong, he rushed to explain himself. “It’s just, you got a whole underground of people convinced you drink the blood of innocents and there you are, right under their noses, pretending to be a blubbering boy who just made a bad decision. It’s brilliant.”

 

It took a few seconds and Felix’s incredulous look for Sebastian to realize what he said. Complimenting a crime boss, Sebastian was just on streak tonight.

 

“I have you on your knees, a gun to the back of your head,” the man just responded, seemingly ignoring Sebastian’s comment. The barrel pushed and Sebastian obediently bent his head forward with the movement. “One pull of my trigger and you cease to exist,” he continued, sounding slightly amazed at the idea. Great, a psychopath fascinated with death. “And you take what could be your last words to compliment me on my ability to fool a, how did you phrase it, ‘bafoonish imbecile that wouldn’t know strategy if it hit him on the head’?”

 

So Jimmy-no, Moriarty- _ had _ heard him. Wonderful.

 

“I was having a bad day,” Sebastian snapped back, momentarily forgetting where he was before the gun pressed harder into his head and he realized who he had snapped at.

 

“Manners, Tiger,” Moriarty chasted. That nickname again.

 

“My boss is,” Sebastian glanced at the slumped body by the door, “ _ was _ an idiot.” Then he added, remembering the manner comment and not itching for that trigger to be pulled, “sir.”

 

Moriarty behind him hummed and slowly, the gun lifted from his hair. Sebastian knew better than to trust the action and tensed, ready to bolt. “Oh, do calm down, Tiger,” the man purred. Fucking purred. Sebastian jumped when he felt a hand in his hair, just thin fingers settling in his newly-sweat covered locks. “Such a fierce tiger, do you think you are clever?”

 

Sebastian didn’t just know how to respond to that. He knew the answer was a solid ‘yes’ but there was no way he would claim such a thing in front of this genius. The Eton-raised boy was known for his lineage in the military because he resembled his father so closely, a quiet intellectual with long blond hair that could take down any competitor with both his mind and fists. He was smart, yes, but nowhere near this man so he managed a, “no.”

 

Suddenly, the hand in his hair tightened painfully and Sebastian couldn’t help it, he yelped. “Don’t lie to me, Tiger,” Moriarty hissed. “Try again. Do you think you are clever?”

 

After he took a second to work around the sharp pain in his scalp, he corrected himself. “Yes, sir. I believe so.”

 

“Tell me what you see, Tiger.” The hand in his hair didn’t let up but it got a little looser.

 

It was such an invitation that Sebastian couldn’t refuse. A ‘party trick’, the boys had named it to trick a couple bucks out of unsuspecting civvies at the local watering hole where ever they had been stationed that week. His eyes flickered out through the room with a dismissive gaze, taking in entrance and exit holes in the crates and counting out shards of glass. “Five men left on your side; two of them with four bullets, two with three, one with one. You have a sniper out on the left hand neighboring building with military experience, used to firing on vague cues, single shot taken through the skylight.”

 

He wasn’t quite good with reading people or deductions but he could count, use angles and percentages to his advantage.

 

“Clever Tiger,” Moriarty spoke and it sounded vaguely like praise. “But it’s two with four, one with three, one with two, and one with one.”

 

Goddammit, he shouldn’t have missed that last bullet. He was close, though.

 

“Now, it seems like we have outstayed our welcome,” Moriarty stated flippity at the rising sound of police sirens. “Get that wound tended to, won't you?” The hand left his head and waved vaguely over him towards Felix’s shocked form. “Ta ta for now, Tiger!”

 

And with that, the man disappeared and the retreating sound of footsteps of his five living guards  _ four three two one _ met Sebastian’s ears. It was Felix that snapped to attention first, rousing Sebastian from the floor to book it to Theta point or the closest safe house. “Come on, Moran!” They bolted, running as fast as Sebastian’s numb knees and Felix’s wound would allow them. The two managed to make it out of the building in time to just barely avoid the coppers, with Sebastian throwing his coat around Felix to hide the wound and Felix slipping all their weapons into his pack.

 

“What the fuck just happened?” Felix hissed as they shuffled onto the street, swaying a little. It was deep enough in the night-by god, that warehouse was so bright-that they looked like clubbing buddies returning home after a round. “Was that really…” He didn't really want to say it and Sebastian understood that fear.

 

Sebastian considered the question anyway. There was no way that man wasn't in some position of power; the pure control radiating from his person was nauseating. Power and confidence was easy enough to feign if you had practice but the voice…

 

That wasn't a normal man.

 

“I don't know,” he responded honestly, not quite believing that the potential Spider of the Underground had gotten the opportunity to put a bullet in his brain but chose to pet him like a dog. If that was Moriarty truly, they had just survived crossing paths with one of the most influential forces in the new world and they  _ lived. _ “I really don't know.”


End file.
